Land and Wave
by Akashic Records
Summary: A man from our world finds himself stranded in the middle of the ocean on a deserted island. Confused and alone, he nonetheless tries to survive in order to get home. Unbeknownst to him, however, is that his arrival has shifted the balance, shattered curses and rewritten destinies. Large Disney crossover, including but not limited to 'The Little Mermaid,' 'Frozen,' and 'Tangled.'
1. Chapter 1

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 _ **Chapter 1: Stranded**_

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Everything hurt, and his vision swam. Slowly, he staggered to his feet. Or at least, he tried to. His foot slipped on something soft and powdery and he fell forward. He held his hands out to soften the impact, but it didn't help, and he got a face full of sand.

"Argh, it got in my mouth!" he cried, spitting and wiping furiously at his face. After a few moments of pathetic flailing he got most of it out and off, and he simply lay there, panting.

He felt the sand beneath him, and the harsh, unforgiving sun above. His skin, tender, white, and pathetic, already starting to crackle. He was cooled by a salty breeze and with considerable effort he sat up, blinking away the haze in his head.

A deserted island. He was on a fudge flipping deserted island! Sand and sea, as far as the eye could see! There were some palm trees and bushes behind him, and it seemed like there were large piles of driftwood lying about. As well as all sorts of miscellaneous objects.

Lengths of rope, a water logged chest that looked like something a pirate would use, several cheap tin plates and utensils, bottles of dark colored liquid, and last but not least, a black flag with a skull and crossbones on it.

He jumped to his feet and immediately regretted it as vertigo struck.

"OK, so standing up is a bad idea. I guess I'll sit back down," he muttered to himself, doing as he narrated.

Seated on the beach, he looked around, taking in where he had ended up.

"Alright, let's see. I'm on what appears to be a deserted island, surrounded by the wreckage of a pirate ship. I have not been on a ship in over a decade, and that had certainly not been a wooden one."

He looked down at himself. Cargo shorts, a plain green t-shirt with a pocket over his heart, black semi-formal sneakers with white socks, and he could feel his glasses pressed against his nose.

A quick check showed that no harm had befallen his precious eyewear and he sighed in relief before checking his pockets.

House and car keys, a half-full thing of lip balm, a grey android smart phone, and a paux-leather wallet with his Driver's License, thirty-two dollars and some change, and a debit card.

"$#!%." A tirade of profanity too foul for a mere T rating erupted from the young man.

After fifteen minutes of venting he grunted and tried to stand up again. When nothing happened he smiled and began to wade into the shallows and dragged chunks of broken pirate ship onto the beach.

He then turned his attention to the rest of the stuff he could rescue.

By the time dusk rolled around he had obtained a decent pile of wet lumber, half a dozen dented plates and spoons, three knives, a fork, two mugs, the chest, and the flag. Oh, and a nasty sunburn, couldn't forget that!

"I don't know where I am. I don't know why I am here. I don't know why there's a wrecked pirate ship. And I don't know why I am talking out loud. But guess what? I'm not gonna die like some chump! I will survive, and I will go home!" he shouted to the heavens.

God took exception to being shouted at, it seemed, and droplets of rain soon began to fall.

"Sonnava," he grumbled, grabbing the pirate flag and hoisting it over his head as a makeshift tarp. This was going to be a long night!

.

Sadly, he was correct. The rain refused to let up, but he was determined to make this into something positive! He used the mugs to catch rain water, and dumped out the contents of the treasure chest to catch some more fresh liquid from the sky.

A whimper escaped him as he watched the pile of gold and jewels just land in a heap, but he had more use for a container then he did riches.

Food was going to be a problem. Already he could feel the hunger pangs, and he had not eaten since he had woken up some time around noon. He had no way of foraging at the moment, and he dreaded getting wetter. A cold would probably kill him at this point. But he had a plan. The ocean was full of food, he just had to scheme up a way to get it!

A cold, brutal gust of wind struck him and he shivered, the once pleasant sea breeze a vicious battering ram that forced him to move even faster to complete a spot to stay dry.

After several grueling minutes, his temporary shelter was finished! The pirate flag acted like a tent, propped up by large chunks of wood, one of which may have been part of a mast at some point. Ferns were placed on the sand to act as a cushion, and he curled up, huddling in on himself for warmth.

Before he turned in to sleep, though, he grabbed a piece of driftwood and used his keys to carve some words onto it.

'Zane Winters. Age 22. Citizen of Maryland in the United States of America. Abducted by pirates (?). Wants to go home.'

He carefully placed that to the side next to his head. A reminder of who he was, where he was from, and what he wanted to do. And, if all else failed, his grave marker.

Morbid thoughts were finally allowed to run rampant now that he tried to get some rest, and he fell into a fitful slumber.

~/~/~

It was a scream. Rending metal, bubbling acid, breaking glass! Fate shattered and rewrote itself, and all who were attuned to the natural and unnatural felt it as a deep, cutting pain upon their very souls.

A man clutched his golden trident tighter, and sent the waves above furiously lashing all in their path.

A woman who was attended to by a pair of eels screeched as her magic cauldron cracked and lost its power, ruining several plots and plans.

A trio of elderly fairies gasped as their wings failed them and they touched the ground for the first time in centuries.

A black hearted witch howled as a golden spinning needle rusted away and saved a young girl.

A maiden with the most lustrous golden hair felt her scalp tingle and burn.

An ancient woman who had lived beyond her time sank to her knees as her age finally caught up to her.

A coven of trolls trembled as the very Heart of the World halted for a brief, terrible moment.

A queen of ice felt the warmth of summer for the first time in years.

And buried deep beneath the realms and ruins of man, a creature who had been held back by the long-lost miracles of countless dead and forgotten gods laughed as his chains began to break.


	2. Chapter 2: Survival, Day 2

_**.**_

 _ **Chapter 2:**_ _ **Survival**_ _ **, Day 2**_

 _ **.**_

The sun was too hot and too bright this early in the morning. Zane rolled off of his crumpled fern leaf mattress and rose, cracking and popping his joints.

"You know, that wasn't so bad. I wouldn't want to do that again, but it could have been worse," he muttered. A roar reminded him he had to find food, and he hastily began to scavenge around the area.

Doing so also led to exploring the island. It was a stereotypical round island, like the kind you'd see in cartoons. A dense packet of foliage at the center and a beach that alternated with sand and rocks on the outside. It was larger than he'd expected, but not by much. It took only ten minutes to walk the circumference of the island, but there was plenty to find.

There were maybe a dozen palm trees with coconuts hanging from them. None of the bushes seemed to contain berries, but he thought wild onions might be growing nearby. They certainly looked like them when he dug a few out, but Zane was hesitant to taste one in case there were complications.

Lastly, there were two points on the beach where the rocks formed tidal pools that trapped a handful of sea critters within. A starfish, two crabs, and a minnow-like fish was his catch of the day.

As for the water, the rain had been a boon. The pirate chest and mugs was filled with water and it was fresh and clean. He eagerly drained one of the two mugs and sighed in relief. He then grunted in pain as the cold water caused cramps to assail his stomach.

"That was stupid! That was stupid! Why was I so stupid?!" Zane cried as he doubled over, clutching his belly.

Five minutes passed before he regained control, and he ate the seafood as his breakfast. Not the starfish, he had no idea why anyone would eat that short of total desperation, and he hadn't reached that point yet.

Zane swallowed the minnow look-alike whole, and pried open the tiny crabs for their succulent meat. They were fresh and only recently deceased, so he felt safe in eating them like that. He had not enjoyed it, but his hunger had forced his hand.

Maybe once he figured out the secret to fire he could enjoy a fish roast.

He rolled up the pirate flag and draped it over his head. Sunburns were popping up all over already, and he wanted to protect himself from the sun. It was hot though, and the heavy black canvas quickly became debilitating.

"So stupid!" Zane shouted after less than an hour, throwing the flag down. He hastily picked it up and brushed the sand off before remaking it into a tarp over his fern bed.

"OK, lesson learned. Black cloth is a bad idea for hiding from the summer sun!" Zane griped. He wandered off to place some driftwood and rope out in the sun to dry, and as it did so he sorted through the other items.

Nine bottles of rum had washed up with the wreckage. Two were empty, three were half full, and the rest were unopened. The empty ones he carefully broke and proceeded to use the bottoms as lens.

"Now, if these can magnify the sun I should be able to use them to start a fire, God willing," Zane mumbled to himself. "And is rum flammable? I feel like it should be. I mean, Pirates of the Caribbean said so, but it was Disney, so how far am I willing to trust them?"

He let out a sigh. "Why the hell am I talking to myself?" Zane rubbed the back of his head and ran fingers through his black hair, trying to find any bumps or gashes.

"Is talking to oneself a sign of a concussion?"

When he found none, he sighed and sat down, and began to sort through the cutlery and dishes. Tin was a good, sturdy material, and the plates would be useful for all manners of things! Holding food, keeping supplies off the sand, um… something else he hadn't thought of!

"The fork and spoons will be useful. Somehow. I guess I could dig my latrine with the spoons," Zane mused. "And the fork could be, I dunno, some sort of tiny trident to catch fish with? At least the knives will come in handy as tools. I can cut stuff with 'em. And there's always something that needs cutting!"

He finally turned his attention to the last bit of salvage. The treasure.

A pile of gold coins and finely cut jewels glittered and gleamed in the sun, and he fell to his knees reverently as he sifted through it all.

"This is more money than I have ever held in my entire life. And likely ever will," Zane whispered. "If only I could spend you!"

How cruel God could be! To deliver a fortune, and have no way to use it!

His stomach rumbled, and he looked around. The shadows were gone. Noon had come. And with it, lunch.

With an annoyed glare at his stomach, Zane stood and wandered over to the palm trees. He stared up at the coconuts for a long time, pondering.

On one hand, he hated the taste. On the other, starvation until he could catch more fish.

It was an easy choice, but he still hesitated. His old life and habits clung to him. A part of him was fully aware that he was trapped on a tiny island with no way off in the foreseeable future.

But there was still a portion of his mind that was stuck in his rented apartment in Maryland, where he could shower when he wanted and eat all the junk food his budget could afford.

A grumble of pain shot through his stomach and he winced. The decision was made.

Now all he had to do was get one coconut down. Rock on the end of a piece of rope? Rock on the end of a piece of rope.

He carefully tied a decently sized stone around some of the salvaged rope and proceeded to throw it at one of the lower hanging coconuts. It took a dozen or so tries to knock it free, but there was a sense of intense excitement once he managed to bring it down and smash it open.

The flakey white flesh of the coconut even tasted not that bad! Victory truly was sweet.

The rest of the day was spent managing his campsite. There was a lot to do, and he needed it done before nightfall. A sturdier shelter, a ring of stone to act as a firepit when he did finally decided to try his hands at fire making, a latrine on the other end of the island, and a feeling of accomplishment as he ate the rest of the coconut for dinner. He also drank the last mug of rain water and closed the chest so the rest would not get contaminated.

As the sun set, he pulled out his android phone. The one action he had refrained from doing so far; turning it on and checking to see if it still worked. Odds were that even if it did have power and was not ruined from water damage, he still would not be able to contact anyone. Would service even reach this place?

But he had to try. Holding his breath, he pressed the ON/OFF button. Slowly, with a fizzle of static on the screen, the logo showed up and his phone lived once more! Zane stared at it, desperate for a very specific sign.

After a moment his heart plummeted. No bars. No signal. And maybe three hours of battery life left.

After a few seconds of indecision, he pressed an icon and a folder full of pictures popped up. He flicked through them until he found what he was looking for; a image of himself standing in front of his apartment, arms wrapped around two people, an older boy and a younger girl, with an older couple standing smiling nearby. Mom and dad. Steve and Emily. His family.

Tears sprang to Zane's eyes and he wiped them away as soon as they came. He then shut down the smartphone to conserve power.

As he lay down on the bed of ferns he stared at the now dark screen of his last lifeline. A few seconds later he slipped it under the wooden signboard he had carved last night, hiding it away along with his keys and wallet.

He let sleep consume him.

~/~/~

"Sebastian, is everything alright with father?"

A young woman with lustrous red hair, pouty lips, a bra made of shells, and the lower half of a foam green fish inquired. The man she was speaking to, a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks and the lower half of a lobster rubbed his hands together nervously.

"Princess Ariel, your father the king is in a bit of a foul mood. Sometime has happened to upset him, yet I know not what it was. He has locked himself in his room since yesterday afternoon."

"Yesterday? Was that before or after the strange wave of energy I felt?" she asked innocently, tilting her head to the side.

Sebastian cocked his own head.

"Wave, your highness? I felt no such thing."

Ariel, seventh daughter and youngest of King Triton's offspring, tapped her chin.

"I think it was magic of some sort, though I've never felt anything like that before. Some of the older, more mystical sea beasts felt it as well and I and my sisters have been pacifying them since then."

"Is that so? Perhaps you can speak to him, then. If you felt it as well, he should be informed," Sebastian mused, before giving in to the princess's pleading puppy dog eyes and opening the doors to the throne room.

It was spacious and magnificent. Dozens of people could stand in front of the throne, and with the extra dimension swimming added, the hall was able to comfortably fit a few hundred people at once.

It was all made of gold and coral, and a massive clam shell had been converted into a throne in which a huge, beefy man with a flowing white beard sat slumped, fingers tightly grasping a simple yet elegant golden trident.

"Speak, my daughter. Why did you come here?" he asked. Ariel froze in shock. She had never heard her father so weak and tired before.

"Daddy, I wanted to know if you knew anything about that magic I felt yesterday," Ariel said softly.

King Triton jerked his head up in surprise and stared at his daughter before sighing and leaning back in his throne.

"Of course you would feel that. You were always more attuned to the ways of magic than any of your siblings. You really took after your mother," the king of Atlantis and the Seven Seas spoke with a fond shake of his head.

He beckoned her over and the youngest princess eagerly swam over. It was rare that her father, so stern and aloof, showed any sort of affection so openly. She settled into a spot next to him on the throne and smiled widely as he placed an arm on her shoulder.

"Something has changed in the world above," King Triton said after a long moment of comfortable silence. Ariel perked up, eager to hear anything about the world that was dry.

"A great shift has occurred, and the waves of magic that have guided us since time immemorable have altered somehow. Somewhere, somehow, someone has broken the Shackles of Fate and diverted the paths."

"Is that so bad? What's wrong with a little divergence?" Ariel asked.

"Just as one misplaced current can send an entire section of the ocean into havoc, so too can a single altered path in Fate lead to unimaginable disaster. For all we know, this change could bring the end of kingdoms and cost hundreds, no, thousands of lives!" King Triton declared.

"But it could be good, right? What if the changes help people?" Ariel inquired, cowed by her father's loud voice. He seemed to sense her discomfort and he settled down, albeit with great difficulty.

"We cannot take that chance. I shall inform the Keepers of the Treasury it may be time to send some people to the Dry World once more, to honor the old pacts and preserve the balance of Fate."

"What will you do when you find the one who has diverged?" Ariel asked, afraid to hear the answer.

King Triton's symbol of power and authority crackled with magical energy.

"I will do what is necessary."


	3. Chapter 3:Learning how to survive!

_**.**_

 _ **Chapter 3: Learning how to survive!**_

 _ **.**_

Zane stared intently at a pile of kindling made from some small bits of driftwood. He stared and stared, all the while holding a broken rum bottle bottom overhead, trying to desperate catch the rays of the sun.

It had been three hours since he had started to try and build a fire. So far, no dice. There was no flint, and he had only the vaguest ideas on how to rub two sticks together to make fire. So, magnifying effect was the only way to bring forth the precious red flower of man.

It was hard though, and he had had to eat another coconut to sate his hunger for breakfast. Nothing substantial in the tidal pools either. Just more crabs and starfish. As soon as he could, he would find a way to make a harpoon and go fishing.

At last, though, his patience paid off, and a tiny ember sparked to life on the dry tinder. Some of which had been soaked in rum just in case it really was flammable.

He bowed his head rapidly as the rum soaked wood burst into flames and he was given a small yet functional campfire.

"Forgive my doubts, Captain Jack Sparrow!" Zane cried to the heavens.

The castaway hastily set up tiny skewers which held lumps of soft crab meat, and began licking his lips as the smell wafted up to him.

It had been five whole days since Zane had woken up on an abandoned island surrounded by naught but water and a wrecked ship. He had made do surprisingly well in his opinion with what little supplies he had.

His lean-to made of a pirate flag, some driftwood, and a palm tree was in much better shape. Sturdier too. Now a gentle breeze would not blow it over.

He had also fought the sun by wrapping palm and fern leaves around his neck and exposed arms and legs. It was much lighter and cooler than the trying to use the pirate flag as a means to protect against sunburns, and that was what mattered.

He had tried starting a fire using the glass the other day, and only got faint embers from it. Not nearly enough to cook anything. He had also accidentally kicked sand over it when he tried to feed it kindling the first time, and smothered it with too much woo the second.

Zane's exploration had also led him into the ocean for the first time. The waters around the little patch of land he called his temporary home were crystal clear and brimming with sea life.

Large coral reefs decorated the area, while seaweed lazily swayed in underwater currents. Fish of all sizes and colors darted around within, and though Zane had yet to catch anything with his makeshift wooden harpoon there was no doubt that there was plenty to eat in there.

He had avoided swimming too much in the ocean, however. He had never been able to open his eyes underwater without wearing goggles, and he doubted salt water would help the matter much. He had also spotted a shark at one point and 'noped' the fudge out and back onto the sand.

Now with a warm fire he could finally cook his food and not taste their cold, wet, clammy flesh going down his throat.

"OK. I have fire, and some food. Water situation looks good so far. Enough for another week, if I drink only two cups a day. I will need to start rationing the coconuts, though. I have no idea how fast new ones grow, but I don't have all that many to eat anyways. My harpooning skills need work but I can figure something out if that doesn't pan out. Maybe make a fishing pole using some rope thread as a line," Zane said to himself.

He felt better hearing spoken words, especially when there was hardly anything else besides the rustle of the wind in the plants and the splish-splash of waves. He had seen maybe two seagulls the entire time, and they had been far off. The mainland, wherever it was, was not close.

Zane plucked a lump of crab from his skewers and popped it in his mouth. It wasn't bad. Plump and juicy, with a touch of salt water giving it flavor. He could live with this for now.

After lunch it was time for repairs and upkeep. Nothing needed constant checking, and most of what he owned on the island was crap anyways. But he made it a point to careful go over everything he had gathered, sort new finds, and make a tally of what he still possessed.

Then, once that was done after an hour or so, he began exercising.

He had never been a man who could claim to be fit. He wasn't obese, but he was pudgy, but if he wanted to survive he had to get into shape. He ran laps around the island, swam a bit, and practiced throwing both his stick-harpoon and his rock-tied-to-a-rope. Accuracy was 'meh' at best, but he hoped to improve soon.

Other than that, there was not much else he could do until dinner.

"So boring," Zane griped as he repeatedly threw his harpoon at a palm tree, aiming at a crudely scratched target on its trunk. It missed the mark more often than not, to his frustration.

"I have new found respect for my distant ancestors. And completely understand why they took up farming! I'd be lucky to take down a pigeon with these skills," he muttered. "That's one good thing, though. No pests like rats or their feathered cousins. But that begs the question; where am I?"

He heaved his water-hunting-spear. It struck dead on. He struck a pose then reeled it back in. He had tied a length of rope around it so he could retrieve it when he missed. Or didn't and had to drag his prey back to him.

"I know next to nothing about astronomy, so I can't even tell which stars are which. I could be in the Atlantic or the Pacific for all I know! Probably the latter seeing as there are coconuts and palm trees, though," Zane mused to himself. He threw it again and hit the bullseye.

"That also begs the question of 'how did I get here?' I do not remember getting on any sort of wooden boat or pirate themed ride, so what would I be doing next to the wreckage of a pirate ship? I also haven't seen any corpses. If this was a recent event, I feel like I should be seeing bloated bodies bobbing on the waves."

Zane's expression twisted in disgust at the thought of water logged bodies and missed his next shot. He sighed and reclaimed his harpoon.

"I just have to be patient. I've managed to cram a few tiny gems into an empty rum bottle as well as a bit of bark with charcoal writing, pleading for help and vague info I've surmised about my location. God willing it will be found, and hopefully the treasure will convince someone to come find me, if nothing else."

That had been his brilliant plan. Name, date of birth, address, simple facts about climate, star positions, and a jewel. With that, he prayed silently that this idea for message-in-a-bottle would reach someone.

He threw his harpoon again. This time, it struck dead on, and actually stuck into the wood. Zane smirked. Those stupid fish wouldn't know what hit them!

~/~/~

"Why do you continue to lollygag?! Are we not meant to be defenders? What is taking us so long to come to a decision!" King Triton bellowed at a mirror. It was elegant and beautiful, held in a case of gold and rimmed with pearls.

On the other side he could see several other people, sitting in different rooms. No two individuals were the same species.

There was a fairy with blue wings and dress buzzing nervously in a hut in a forest.

Another was a squat, stony creature with a flower growing atop its head.

Beside them a white dragon lounged upon a pile of gold.

A red and gold peacock fluffed its feathers and preened slightly as it sat on a silk cushion.

The last of the figures in the mirror was a gnarled old man with a beard even whiter and longer than the King of the Seven Seas' facial hair. He also floated several inches above the floor and was see-through.

The Mirrored Council, a group of powerful magical beings so-called that because they communicated with each other via these enchanted mirrors.

And now they were arguing over what to do with the Anomaly.

"I am of the same opinion as the fish. Find the source of the disruption and destroy it. Several of my magical treasures were broken by it!" the dragon, Albion, declared, fire simmering in his maw.

"You two are being hasty! The Anomaly saved the life of Princess Astoria by breaking her curse! She will be able to see her seventeenth birthday awake!" the blue fairy argued.

"That was an accident. A happy one, but still," the ghostly man said, stroking his beard. "I saw we monitor the Anomaly, whatever it may be, and only decide once we know what we are dealing with. Haste makes waste, after all."

"I am an ally of anyone who preserves beauty. As such, I am glad he bested that nasty Malificent's spell. Until I know more about this Anomaly, I too say we wait. I agree with Lord Phantasm and Lady Azure," the elegant bird stated.

"Fools, the lot of you! Will you just let this Fate Breaker run amok?!" King Triton snapped.

"My king, perhaps you should step back and look at it from a calmer perspective," the troll said. "All we know so far is that this Anomaly appeared and made several old prophecies and problems go away. This has caused issues of its own, but I believe, and everyone should agree with me, that anything powerful enough to do this should be approached cautiously."

"Lord Rollingstone, you are too kind for your own good!" Triton retorted. "The Southern Trenches were nearly destroyed when the Kraken woke up, and I had to personally subdue the Leviathan when the Anomaly disturbed its seals. Not to mention the Vortex Stone was cracked and will take years to fix, so until then I have to ensure Charybdis remains trapped in the Sea of Monsters and does not cause more whirlpools than he already does! And don't even get me started on the Nuckelavee!"

The Mirror Council winced.

"Ah, yes, that would be a lot of problems if even one of them got loose. I see why you are so 'proactive' in finding this Anomaly," Azure the fairy godmother said.

"And I admit, I too have had some troubles. The Enchanted Forest expanded slightly beyond its borders and my dear sister Carnelian had to corral some ornery unicorns and other magical beasts. Verdi has been trying to get ahold of the Seelie Court, but they too felt the Anomaly's appearance and have hidden themselves in their personal realms."

"A few old ghasts and grimly beasts sought to take advantage of the panic as well, and the Spirits of Death are in a tizzy due to the new changes in the timeline. Though oddly enough some of the Embodiments of Disaster were utterly terrified of this change," Lord Phantasm, the master of all ghosts and spirits, said slowly.

"The Oni tried to come down from the mountains, but a few displays of power put them in their place," Quo Dai the Phoenix King said as he shifted on his cushion. "Oh, and Albion, King Ryuu wanted me to tell you he wants a rematch."

The White Dragon of Providence snorted, golden sparks dancing in his breath.

"Tell him that a real dragon does not live in the sea, and if he wants to take my place as representative of all magical beasts he will come to me for that fight!"

"Enough, we have gone off track!" King Triton shouted, banging his trident into the floor. He went ignored, and more and more arguments broke out. His voice went unheard and his face turned red like a lobster.

Rollingstone, the chief of the trolls and guardian of the Old Magic, sighed at the bickering. He then clapped his hands and silence fell forcefully upon them.

"I agree with King Triton, we have drifted off topic. However, we shall do nothing but try to find the Anomaly and observe them. We do not know what has happened other than a new wind has begun to blow, and Fate has shifted. Only if they actively and maliciously pose a threat to others should they be confronted. But do not harm them unless it is a last resort! If we hurt an innocent we will all feel the sting of Fate! And for whatever reason, this Anomaly, this Fate Breaker, is now tied to the world for good or ill."

Seeing no immediate arguments, the troll undid the magic binding the rest of their mouths.

King Triton looked sullen, but he nodded in agreement, as did the others.

"We will convene once a month to share notes and any information we have. I know that this is unusual, but we have to stay connected in the face of this unusual circumstance. If that is all, I bid you goodnight," the troll chief said. None said anything, and one by one the images on the mirror flicked and faded, leaving only the merfolk king's reflection.

Triton grumbled but would obey the decisions for now. His men would scour the waters of the world for news, and act in his name. No one and nothing would hurt his family.


	4. Chapter 4: Loss and Discovery

**.**

 **Chapter 4: Loss and Discovery**

 **.**

Zane stared at his phone. He stared and stared at the android's glass screen, eyes trailing over a picture he had looked at repeatedly since his internment on the abandoned island.

The picture of his family. Mother and father in the background with his older brother Brad and his younger sister Emily. And there he was, in the middle, smiling and posing for the last family photograph he had ever taken with them.

And now, he was here. Trapped. For three months he had been here, surviving day to day with barely any time to dedicate towards thought or hope of rescue.

The only luxury he had to his name was his smartphone, and the pictures stored on it. His fingers trailed down the screen, as if he could touch the people within one last time.

A beep broke his thoughts, and his gaze drifted unwillingly towards the little battery icon in the top corner.

1%. Barely any power was left inside, despite his judicious and stringent rationing of the remaining life inside the sophisticated piece of technology.

Only the faint embers of his fire gave any light besides the dimly lit screen, the stars having stained the sky long ago.

He returned his gaze towards the photo and continued to stare, but with tears prickling at his eyes.

When the power died, he would be unable to see their faces any more. How long would it be till he started to forget what they looked like? How long until he could see them again?

He stared at his parents, smiling proudly at him. Father was a Notary, mother an accountant. They worked hard, and raised their family right. There were tough times, fights, and arguments of course. A divorce nearly happened, but they managed to work through it and find common ground and love again. They taught their children to be morally upstanding and to follow their dreams. They loved all of them equally.

Black hair with green eyes, Brad, despite his jock sounding name, was perhaps the smartest guy Zane knew. MIT graduate with honors! And he worked at an engineering firm that designed aeronautical systems. Soon, he would be getting a promotion to a management position!

Then there was Emily. She had just graduated high school and would be attending college! She loved her older brothers, and they loved her too. Her black hair was tied into a pony tail with two ribbons, one green and one yellow, holding it together. Those had been gifts for a birthday when she had been younger from her brothers, and she hardly ever took them off. Far more artistic than the rest of the family, she wanted to do sculpting and metalwork.

And it was her birthday today.

When Zane had turned on the phone for the evening, a notification had popped up on his calendar, reminding him of the fact Emily was turning nineteen.

To his utter shame he had completely forgotten about that, and was now forced to spending the last few moments of power regretting it.

Once more, his fingers traced over the image of his family, his touch lingering on his sister.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," Zane began to sing softly as he looked at his family. "Happy birthday dear Emily, happy birthday to you."

His voice cracked on the last verse, and just as he finished the song the screen died.

As the light went away for the last time, his resolve finally broke, and he curled up into a ball and wept. Tears poured down his face as Zane allowed himself to cry for the first time since he had arrived on the island.

His entire body shook, his frame trembling with bottled up sorrow that had finally been unleashed.

Unbeknownst to him, something was watching him from the ocean. Something with red hair and a curious gaze.

~/~/~

It had all started off so innocently enough, in Ariel's opinion.

Her father was scrambling all of his forces for one mission or another. Whatever magical thing had happened a few months back had done a number on the defenses of the underwater realms, and a lot of repairs, patrols, and assorted jobs were needed to get everything back on track.

That meant while father was busy doing more and more king stuff, his daughters were more or less free to do what they wanted. To an extent. Her oldest sister Porphyra was doing more and more work with the day-to-day running of Atlantis while Etna, the second oldest and more militaristic of the sisters organized the troops wherever they were needed.

The rest? They did what they could to help out where ever they were best suited. Rain, the second youngest sister and closest in age to the littlest princess, worked with the various economic matters any successful kingdom needed.

Lapis and Lazuli, the twins, helped the mages and various other mystical folk with managing the smaller, less immediate problems left by the strange flux of energy that swept the world.

Venus, the middle child of King Triton's offspring, went around the kingdom singing for the citizens and playing peace maker when disputes arose and the court was busy with other matters.

Ariel even took a break from her adventuring and plundering sunken human ships to scout out places where there were too many storms that needed calming. That these spots tended to have plenty of neat stuff from wrecks didn't hurt either.

It was during one of the trips that she first spotted a man stranded on a deserted island.

Had he been shipwrecked due to one of the storms? It seemed likely, given how a good deal of junk appeared to be washed up.

He was likely a sailor. He seemed young, though. Not too young, and he had decent muscles and tan, but he was clearly 'fresh faced' as Etna would describe a rookie soldier. Perhaps a cabin boy? But no, he was too old for that.

What gave her pause was the large, black flag with white skull and crossbones on the island. She winced as she saw it being used as a tent for the man, and wondered if he had been a pirate.

Her father disliked humans. It was not hate, per say, but he found most of them cruel and arrogant, and utterly unwilling to heed his words or abide by the ancient treaties.

The worst of these 'bald apes,' in his opinion, were pirates. Pillagers, looters, and despoilers. Some even dared to kidnap mermaids and use them as slaves or keep them as pets. The king always retaliated in those cases, devastating their ports and sinking the ships.

Ever since his own wife had died to a group of pirates King Triton had held immense coldness and little mercy for those who flew the Jolly Roger.

This man though did not feel like a pirate, though. There was no stink of blood or metal about him, and his hands, while calloused, did not look suited to holding a weapon beyond his wooden fishing spear. And even then, he was clearly a novice with it.

So, Ariel had watched him. At first, it was to see if he was a pirate or other sort of threat. Though stranded, he might try to harm anyone who approached him.

When it was clear he was not doing anything other than surviving, observing the stranded man took on another, more personal purpose.

Study. Of all her siblings, she was the most fascinated by the mortals of the dry world that bordered her own. She loved their artifacts and tools, which were all so ingenious and intriguing. Not to mention useful. How many of Atlantis' own inventions were mere copies of things humans had made? Most of them, if Ariel was to be brutally honest.

The way he walked on those 'legs,' the way he ate food by cooking it first, the odd clothes he wore to cover himself, how he splashed and stumbled about in the water as he tried to fish, and of course, the way his muscles moved and shone with sweat when he exercised.

So what if she liked to watch a handsome man work out! Was that so wrong?! She was a healthy young adult, damn it! She had rights! And hormones! Lots and lots of hormones!

Anyways! Back to the issue of the human. What had really caught her attention was a moment late at night when she went to learn how humans slept. Before getting into a makeshift bed of ferns and leaves he stared at a tiny contraption in his hands that gave off a faint light.

The expression on his face was melancholic, if not outright depressed. Then, the light faded and he put the item away and went to bed.

Intrigued, she had wanted a closer look, but refrained. The next night, she had eagerly wandered a tiny bit closer to the island to see if he had the light making item again. But he didn't use it.

A whole week passed before he used it again, and once more his face showed deep regrets and loneliness. She guessed that he only used it once a week. Did it take that long to recharge? Was it based on magic, or some other principle?

And now, a whole three weeks of observing the stranded human later, he was now curled up on the beach and sobbing with the most heartbreaking sound she had ever heard in her life.

One thing most did not know about merfolk, and even they themselves often didn't really realize, was that they were minor empaths. When people spoke or sang, they could feel the sincerity of emotions and the true intent in their voice. The same was with crying. A merfolk could tell how much pain and sorrow a person had with uncanny ease.

And the human in front of her had more pain coming from him than she had felt in years. Not since her mother, Queen Athena, had passed away had such anguish poured forth from any one person.

It tore at her heart, and Ariel couldn't help but draw nearer in an unconscious effort to soothe the man.

Despite coming closer, the human didn't notice her, not even when she was practically on the beach itself of the tiny island.

It was only when her movements caused splashes against the rocks did he look up, eyes bleary with tears and puffy from crying.

"What the- are you a mermaid?" he asked, in bewildered awe. Ariel nodded mutely, suddenly very aware of how close they were.

The man crawled towards her in a daze, knees splashing the foamy edges of the water. There was something clutched in his hands, and to Ariel's eyes it looked to be a rectangular piece of dark metal. Was that what had given light? It had suddenly gone dark, and then the human had begun to weep.

All of a sudden a hand reached out and touched her hair and the youngest daughter of King Triton stiffened in shock. She had been so distracted by the item she had ignored how quickly he had reached her spot in the shallows.

But despite her fears, the man did nothing except stroke and fondle her crimson tresses.

"So beautiful," he murmured, fingers trailing through her hair. Ariel shivered, goosebumps running down her spine.

It felt good! Now she knew why Venus was always combing her hair!

A snort of disbelief came from the human and her attention snapped back to him.

"Ha. Ha ha. Hah ha ha! A mermaid! I finally went crazy from loneliness!" the man laughed. Despite his apparent mirth only pain was held in his voice, and Ariel reached out and patted the hand currently resting on her head.

"No, I'm real," she said softly, taking his hand and holding it in front of her. She pressed it against her chest, so he could feel her heartbeat.

The young human's face turned red and he tried to pull away but she held him there. Why was his face starting to resemble her hair color, anyways?

"Can you feel it? I'm real. You're not alone."

He stopped struggling as her warmth and heartbeat were conveyed to him. Tears appeared anew at his eyes, and he whimpered pitifully. Ariel pulled him into a comforting hug. His shirt rubbed against her, the unfamiliar materials not that uncomfortable on her skin. Much nicer than cotton or wool, for certain!

He returned the embrace. It was tight, almost painfully so, but Ariel could tell there was no maliciousness in it, only a strong desire to be close to another person once more.

"You're real," he muttered. "You're real."

He then laughed bitterly. "My sister would have loved you. She loved the story of _The Little Mermaid_. Knew the whole movie by heart. Even liked the original fairytale."

Ariel frowned, confused. Some of his words were strange. And a story about mermaids? She knew humans spoke of them, but the way he said it made it seem like she should know about this particular one as well.

After a moment the human slumped in her arms, and a soft snoring could be heard coming from him. She gave a small smile and carefully extracted him from herself. She then rolled him out of the surf back onto dry land. Hopefully he was far enough inland the tide wouldn't sweep him away.

Finally deposited, Ariel turned away and swam back into the ocean. But she had a new mission, now. She had spoken to a real human! And he clearly needed her. So, she was going to take care of him! Maybe even help him find a way home!

But why did her chest tighten, and her cheeks become warm when she thought about the human?

~/~/~

Zane was woken by a wave rudely slapping him in the face.

He groaned, feeling weak and sore all over. His eyes ached, and not just from the piercing sun. His mouth tasted like sand and there was some in his ears as well.

And in the palm of his right hand, he could still feel the cool metal of his android smartphone.

Last night returned to him, and he snorted. Really, a mermaid appearing before him? And she looked just like Ariel from _The Little Mermaid_ series by Disney? He had finally lost it. It only took three months before he went bonkers. What was next, carving up a coconut and calling 'Wilson?'

No, that was stupid. The only name fitting for a coconut was 'Armando!' Duh!

He simply lay there, depression keeping him from moving. There was no more power in his phone. No more chances of him seeing his family until he was rescued.

If he was rescued.

It was all too likely he was going to die here.

He had barely enough food at any given time. The coconuts were running low, and the wild onions tasted like shit. His attempts at fishing went poorly, and he only caught a few at a time, if any at all.

Firewood was growing scarce as well. He tried to drag more and more of the pirate ship up, but by now all the small, easy to handle pieces were on the island with him. The rest was all too far off, heavy, or a combination of the two.

Water was also a problem. Squalls came through every other week or so and filled up the chest, but that was far too hard to predict or plan on. His treasure chest could only hold two weeks of water, and that was if he drank one and a half cups a day. He could feel dehydration setting in at times, only to be staved off by the blessing of rain, where he just lay down with his mouth open to catch the fresh falling water.

Sickness was a constant fear for Zane as well. He once ate a fish that he shouldn't have, and spent an hour puking. Scratches and the like were hard to deal with as well. He scraped his knee badly on some sharp corral at one point, and he used up two whole bottles of rum disinfecting the wound, then had to tear his shirt to make a bandage.

If hunger, thirst, or exposure didn't kill him, an infection would.

At least he had a decent tan, now. And muscles. He wasn't a flabby, pasty white geek anymore. Now he was slim, trim, and athletic! That was about the only benefit he'd gotten from this whole endeavor.

Now if only he could grow a proper beard! His family did not grow facial hair well. Moustaches looked a little too 'child-molesty' for their liking and beards looked patchy and crude. His own beard looked like a ferret, or perhaps a particularly ugly poodle, had died on his chin.

His stomach growled loudly.

He sighed. He didn't want to move. His heart was just too heavy, and he was having immense trouble mustering up the will to continue trying to live. What was the point? Was it worth it, trying to wait and hope for rescue?

A splash cut through Zane's depressed thoughts. Then another. He frowned, eyes still shut.

That sounded a tad too large for a mere wave. It almost sounded like something was close to the shore. Something big enough to cause waves to displace.

"Are you awake?"

Zane's eyes shot open. A voice. A female voice! The same one from his dream about the mermaid! Had it been real? Was there someone else out there? Or was he finally going crazy as he feared?

With agonizing slowness, Zane looked over towards the beach to his left, and gazed out at where the question had come from.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Bwuh?"

A red-headed mermaid with a blue-green shell-bra and foam-green tail lay in the surf, watching him with concern.

"Is everything alright?" she asked. Zane continued to stare. He watched her lips move incredulously, unable to believe his eyes. She was talking. She was talking to him!

He reached out with his left hand, arm shaking, and she held out her hand as well. He clasped it, feeling its softness, her palm against his.

It was real. She was really here! There was an actual Holy Hell All Gods Be Damned mer-frikken-maid in front of him who looked almost identical to Ariel!

She scooched closer, almost completely out of the water as she got closer to him.

"Did you lose your voice? Can you understand me?" she inquired worriedly.

The following words out of Zane's mouth made him want to slap himself.

"Why are you so beautiful?"


End file.
